Devils Waltz
by Lune-Solei
Summary: She smiles at him and the light catches the mask once more and he smiles back, pulling her closer. Dancing on the edge of proper and indecent. Verging on the edge of the knife, one side is decent, the other indecent. The Devil’s Waltz. Surprise pairing.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own Code Lyoko.

**Rating:** PG

**Warnings:** Kissing

**Pairing:** Surprise

**Author's Note:** I was asked to write something and I sort of took a back way out. I hope it's still acceptable though!

**Dedication:** To Katie because she is love. I hope you like it Katie!

* * *

He isn't sure exactly why he let his roommate talk him into coming here tonight. He hates dances and he knew that it being a costume party wouldn't exactly make it any better. _Not a costume party,_ a voice in his head, which sounded suspiciously like Odd's now that he thinks about it whispers. _It's a masquerade. It's completely different._

Right, a masquerade. He rolls his eyes, shifting his weight from one his left foot to his right. He doesn't know what possessed the Headmaster to schedule an All-Hallows-Eve Masquerade (maybe the rumors about the old mans sanity were true) until he sees Sissi entering the gymnasium. Though it hardly seems to be a gymnasium anymore.

There are ornate masks placed along the walls, streamers hanging from the ceiling in delicately coiled loops and spirals, and there are tables set up along the edges of the dance floor – a raised platform in the center of the gym – covered in white linen cloths and glitter. A band is underneath a basketball hoop, currently playing an upbeat song that sounds almost like a tango but not quite so passionate.

Sissi enters through the curtains, her mask held aloft so that everyone can see that it is her in the floor-touching gown that shimmers a peacock blue in the lantern lights, hung along the ceiling. No doubt she's the one who suggested the party idea. He raises an eyebrow when her gaze passes over him, a frown marring her otherwise porcelain-like features. Maybe wearing a mask and funny-looking clothes _was_ actually a good idea. He can't help the smirk as she glides past in a flurry of blue and silver and passion fruit perfume.

Sissi will never change and that's actually slightly more comforting then he'd like to admit.

He pulls at the mask, trying to adjust the paper Mache to a comfortable annoyance. The feathers and smoothness feel strange under his fingers and he finally gives up, settling on simply allowing it to let him see through the eye holes. His gaze returns to the entrance in time to see Odd come through the doorway, a girl on his arm.

Odd was dressed in purple tights (strangely unsurprising) with a purple and gold tunic type shirt and trousers that ended at the knee. His mask was done in complete white with curlicues dangling over and purple and gold swirls around the eyes and edges. He looked every bit the eighteenth century gentleman, except for the spike of blonde hair.

His gaze is caught by the girl standing next to his best friend. She's dressed in a deep green gown - it looks like silk or satin from where he stands in the shadows. The bodice is tight, hugging to her frame tightly. Her hair is a dark brown and is curled delicately around her face, pinned back with glittering barrettes that seem somewhat familiar to him but he can't place where he's seen them before. Her mask is a delicate design of porcelain, glitter, and feathers of green and white.

For some reason he can't stop staring at her.

* * *

He's lost in thought when she sneaks up behind him, tapping him lightly on the shoulder. He's thankful that he doesn't jump, that the mask hides his look of surprise when he turns to face her. She's smiling at him from beneath the mask and he notices that her eyes are the color of caramel.

He hasn't moved far from the place he'd been when he'd first seen her, maybe a yard or two at most. Sissi has glided by twice since the start of the party, no doubt on the look-out from him and each time she sweeps past he can't help but grin a bit more. It is so much easier to avoid Sissi when she doesn't know what to look for.

"You don't dance much, do you?" she says by way of greeting. He can feel himself smile.

"No, not really. Why?"

"No reason," she answers evasively. Her hand reaches up and plays with a chestnut curl, rolling and unrolling it around her finger. "Why did you come then, if you don't like to dance?"

"My roommate convinced me," he answered. His eyes sought the crowd, looking for the elusive spike of blonde hair. "Aren't you Odd's date?"

She shook her head slowly; the lights glittered on the beads embedded in the mask, shined in her eyes. They were familiar eyes but he can't place them. "No. I'm a friend of Odd's, he needed a date and I love dressing up. Perfect fit, no?" she asked with a tilt of her head.

"Yeah…" He shifts slowly and she smiles at him. "How did you meet him?"

"Odd?" At his nod she gives a shrug, shoulders lifting and falling softly. "We met a few years ago. He's a friend of my brother's."

"Oh."

They're silent and he wants to ask more but isn't sure how to phrase it. Talking to girls has never been his forte, much to Odd's immense amusement, and he can't help but think he knows her which makes it all the more confusing. The band changes tempo suddenly, a lone flute lilting suddenly and magically above the sound of violin and clarinet. The song seems familiar too.

"What's your name?"

She jolts a little at the question, caught almost off guard it seems before smiling at him. "Ah, now, can't we have a good time without involving names?" He feels that it's a mistake but nods anyway. Her smile increases fractionally. "Names are stupid anyway, who cares about names?" He laughs because it sounds like something his own sister would say.

"The people who created them," he replies and she giggles.

She raises a hand to cover her mouth, trying to suppress or cover up the snort that's threatening to escape. She had vowed not to do anything embarrassing tonight. The music changes tempo again, going into a slow, melodic three-beat and his head tilts to the side. A waltz. She's turned to stare at the dance floor as well and he sees Sissi dragging someone into the crowd of people dancing by. None of them appear to be doing it exactly right.

"Would you like to dance?" He glances at her and she offers a shrug in response. "I know you don't like to, but I love waltzes. Anyway, I have a feeling you'd be really good at it for some reason…"

"Sure," he replies, cutting off her babble.

She grins at him and he takes her hand, pulling her out to the dance floor, ignoring the nervous butterflies dancing around in his stomach. He hasn't danced a waltz in years, not since he was ten and had to dance with Charlie at their aunt's wedding. Ages ago it seems now, yet at the same time not that long ago.

_One-two-three. One-two-three._

"You dance well," she tells him.

They're swaying to the music, floating across the platform and weaving between couples. The scent of passion fruit drifts by before being smothered by the many other perfumes in the gym. She smiles at him and the light catches the mask once more and he smiles back, pulling her just a tad closer. Dancing on the edge of proper and indecent.

"So do you."

She blushes slightly and grins. "Thanks. I took dance classes when I was younger, before I was able to break out of the mould my parents wanted me in." He nodded and she smiled a bit wider. "I taught my brother actually. He'll never admit it though."

"Ah." He doesn't blame him and is again thankful for the mask.

"It's the Devil's Waltz."

"What?"

"The song. They call it the Devil's Waltz." She gives a shrug and he considers it. "The way the music is played, it's twisted a bit, so that it's different then the traditional waltz. It's to lure the dancers into a closer proximity because of the faster pace. Verging on the edge of the knife, one side is decent, the other indecent. The Devil's Waltz."

"You learned that from dance class?"

She didn't answer but stopped suddenly on the outskirts of the dance floor, pulling him to a halt as well. He has to fight to keep his feet and not trip on her and she holds his arms tightly, smiling up at him, shadows dancing in between glittering light, beguiling and enchanting. Different and familiar all in one.

"You're different," she states, eyeing him. "I feel like I've known you for a long time yet we've only just met. You understand me, or at least you seem to."

"What are you talking about?"

She only shakes her head and pulls him close, pressing her mouth to his. Her lips taste of strawberry-kiwi lip gloss and she smells of jasmine and strawberries. It's a familiar scent and the memory is just there, dancing just out of reach of his grasp. Taunting and smirking and looking all too much like Odd does when he steals the last chocolate chip cookie or beats the high score.

He kisses her back without thinking, hand rising to tangle in her hair and even the feeling of it is familiar, adding another piece to the puzzle. He can't place her though, not with the mask there, blocking his view. She sighs softly, slipping her tongue into his mouth and he feels like he's falling, drowning, that the world is crashing down upon him.

"_Charlie_?What are you _doing_?" a voice demands.

They break apart immediately and he feels the world come to a complete stand-still as he stares at her. She's breathing hard, cheeks flushed a brilliant red beneath the mask and eyes darting between him and Odd, trying to decide the safest way out no doubt.

"_Char_lie?" he demands. It's too much of a coincidence. "You're name is _Charlie_?"

She shrugs nonchalantly. "Yeah, so what? My parents named me. Charlie and nothing else. Not Charlene or Charlotte or whatever, just Charlie."

"Charlie you _know_ Ulrich's going to kill me," Odd groans. He pauses then, turning to stare at the other boy and his jaw drops slightly. "Oh no." His voice is barely a whisper, more of a squeak, when he continues. "Ulrich?"

He pulls the mask off and Charlie gasps, her own hands reaching up to remove her mask. "Oh my _God_! I cannot _believe_ I just French-kissed my _brother_!" she gasped, covering her face.

"You brought my _sister_ to the dance Odd? You never told me you were bringing her to the _dance_!"

"Hey, hey! Lets get something straight here, okay? I was _not_ the one Frenching her in the shadows, okay? _You_ were." He was laughing now, almost doubled over and both brother and sister glared at him.

"Mention one word of this to _anyone_ Odd and I'll…" he trailed off.

"_I'll_ make sure that there will be no future little Odd's around to carry on the family name, understand?" Charlie threatened. He nodded, trying to stifle the laughter and Ulrich glared, knowing that he wasn't going to live this particular incident down anytime soon.

* * *

He's stretched out on his bed, changed out of the ridiculous costume and into pajamas, when she knocks on the door. He doesn't bother getting up, only yells that the door's open, already knowing that it will be her. She enters, still dressed in the green gown and holding the mask in her hands.

"You look pretty," he tells her. She flashes him a small, tight smile and sits down at the desk. "Look, I'm sorry. I…I didn't realize…"

"No, it's okay. I mean, it isn't, it's very, _very_ wrong, but it's okay. You know? Neither of us realized it was the either so there really wasn't anything we could do to prevent it." She shifts, and then sighs. "Can I borrow some clothes?"

"Yeah, sure. Over there," he mutters, gesturing to the wardrobe. She nods, getting up and going over, selecting an old shirt and pair of pants.

"Now, no ogling me while I change, okay? I know I'm a great kisser, but really. We're still siblings, twins even."

His response was a well aimed pillow. After she changed behind the wardrobe door she reappeared, smiling and bouncing onto his bed, snuggling against him until he reluctantly wraps an arm around her.

"Lets swear never to speak of this again, okay?"

"Agreed," she murmurs, eyes heavy with sleep. "And, if Odd so much as breathes a whisper of this to _anyone_, whether or not their your friends, I _will_ kill him. Happily."

"Agreed," he muttered. She giggled quietly. "Where is he?"

"Talking to Aelita or Claire or someone." She yawned widely. "Goodnight Ulrich. Thanks for the dance."


End file.
